Hide the Night
by AkashaAvani
Summary: Unknown to everyone, Ash had a daughter before he died. For the past 11,000 years she has walked alone and unaware as to who and what she is. When she meets DH Nick Gautier, two fates that have waited for over 10,000 years will finally unfold...
1. Chapter 1: Strangers

_**A/N: **Hello! I'm testing this chapter out to see if I really want to make this, so please tell me whether or not it's good. Please feel free to leave any sort of questions, comments, smart remarks. After all, the last is a specialty of Nick. ;)  
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**Chapter One: Strangers  
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Ambrosius looked out at the streets. From the top of the roof, he almost felt at peace. He could almost imagine that his mother was out there, laughing and dancing with someone was they undoubtedly told her their life's story and she cheered them up. He could imagine that he was still just Nick Gautier and that his life was still normal, or as normal as it had ever been for him. He felt his skin marble as fury and pain wrapped around him once more and he cursed. Nowadays he had to force his skin to remain human in appearance, or else he'd look like Balthazar from Charmed. (He fully blamed his mother for the fact that he knew about a teenage girls' show so well. Of course, no one knew about that little tidbit, thank Someone, or else he'd doubtlessly have been teased to no end by Otto or another Squire…) Blood red skin covered with black tribal-looking markings, his eyes ebony, with an odd oily cover like oil spreading over a dark surface. He forced his eyes to remain blue, his skin to return to its Cajun olive and his unruly dark brown hair to grow back to its shoulder length waves once more.

Why could he forget any of it? For months now he'd been working with Acheron, the asshole that had started this whole mess, to get control of these stupid powers. Yet even as his control became better, the memories refused to leave him, making him vulnerable and unstable. Why couldn't he just let the past go? After years, those memories threatened to break him after just a split moment of remembrance, of picturing the night he'd come home and found—_Forget it, Nicky_. _Don't be hurting yourself like this. Things go as they're meant to, for a reason. _He swore he could hear her voice in his head, and his anger and pain eased just that little bit more. He didn't care if he wasn't sane anymore, as long as he heard his mother's voice from time to time, living would be okay after all.

His eyes caught on a woman below, someone he'd normally never even look at twice, but for some reason she caught his attention. It took him a second, just a fraction of time, but he swore before she moved again that she'd been _looking at him_. That was impossible, though. With his new powers, he'd hidden himself from human eyes, and even though it was night, she wasn't tall, stunningly gorgeous and blue or black eyed, like Daimons or Apollites. Instead, she looked like any other human from where he watched. She was shorter than most humans, what he guessed was an hourglass shape-although he couldn't be certain with the long coat she had on- and long brown hair that curled wildly at the ends. She didn't seem different than any other human, yet his newfound powers told him there was something more to this woman…

Ambrosius found out what when he watched a group of tall, exceptionally handsome-although not in his opinion, of course- blonde men trailing behind at a short distance. _Here we go again_, he thought to himself, and stepped off the ledge of the roof. Three stories down he fell, landing without a sound and striding from the alley without a backward glance. When he'd been human he would've loved to be able to do something like that. Now that he could, he found that he didn't even give a shit anymore. _Things go as they're meant to_, the voice echoed in his mind. Sure, and people in hell wanted ice water; neither meant shit to him right now.

He strode right past the woman who was approaching him, a tall redhead with stunningly green eyes and the most beautiful face the world has seen in quite some time. "Nick," she purred, and he grimaced.

"It's Ambrosius now, Artemis. Go bug someone else. I'm hunting tonight."

"You dare flick me off—"

"Brush, woman, brush you off. And yes, I do. We both know I'm more powerful than you now, and I'm not going to put up with your shit tonight. Go bother Acheron-oh wait, you can't, because his wife will beat the shit out of you if you so much as breathe in his presence. Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" He didn't even blink at the tears of rage he saw in her eyes. He'd been around her enough to figure out that she was selfish and would use anything to get her way.

"You'll regret this, _Nick_, you'll see." With a flourish she turned on one too-high heel and sauntered off like the bitchy goddess she was. He rolled his eyes and turned back to where he'd been going. Shit, now he'd lost the woman _and_ the Daimons. Bitch, he thought crossly. Now he'd have to use powers that he hadn't even begun to train yet. He'd tried scrying a few times, but so far he'd only managed to get it right once. What had he done again? Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he walked to an abandoned alleyway and focused on the woman, picturing her exactly as he'd seen her from the rooftop. Small, hidden by the too-big coat, looking up at him with a look on her face that not even his god-like eyesight could figure out, and hair that had reached past her waist, straight at the top that led to waves and then to chaotic curls at the ends, a deep brown tinted with red, gold and black in the lamplight. He focused on her face, what he'd been able to tell of it, the almost-heart shape of it, the full, curved cheekbones and stubborn chin, the rounded nose, the fact that there wasn't a single sharp point in any of her features. Her eyes, what color were they? He couldn't remember, only saw the slightly tilted shape of them, felt the compassion from them—where had that come from? He'd never experienced anything like that before. Was this some sort of new, emerging gift? Someone help him if it was, because he wasn't ready for any sort of empathy…

The thought hadn't finished when he found himself facing the three Daimons, whose faces quickly turned from smug to confused. "Surprise, assholes. Didn't know someone was watching, huh?" A savage grin lit his features as he raised his hand and blasted two of them against the wall, crushing them to golden dust that disappeared before it could touch the ground. Damn, he'd been aiming for all three. The last one lunged for him, a sword whipping out of some hidden compartment in his trench coat, but Ambrosius was quicker, flipping the blade strapped to his wrist up as his other arm raised and he stepped forward. The fluid movement caused the death of the last Daimon, whose dust revealed a dagger hanging in mid-air still.

Sensing the woman at his back, he turned, fully expecting fear or revulsion or even worse, arousal, and was just as ready to erase her memory as quickly as possible and get the hell out of there. His thoughts stopped as he got a good look at her. She'd taken her coat off and was still in a fighter's stance, although she stood to her full height-not that there was much of it, she was only about five feet and two inches, making her over a foot shorter than his six foot four-now that he turned to her. For the first time in ages he felt his throat dry and felt the stirring of heat in his veins. _Christ, just by looking at her? You need to get laid, man_, he thought dimly. Traveling from the ground up, his eyes noted everything. She had tiny feet, strong legs, hips that flared proudly, the skinniest waist he'd seen, her breasts made him stop and stare for a moment, given that they were just as large and proud as her hips and that her shirt made a V that showed a fair bit of skin revealed by a camisole underneath that had drifted down, but he couldn't think of that. Slender shoulders, he tore his gaze up and saw, a delicate neck, and… her face was perfect. Not beautiful at all, but striking. The rounded cheekbones and stubborn chin masked a soft quality to her face that made him think of his mother—an odd that, he added in his head…

Her eyes. Now that he saw what they were like, it was no wonder he'd forgotten them. They were old-soul, depthless, tormented with sorrow and overflowing with life and holding inside of them a serenity and contentedness that made him dizzy. One was green and he swore he could see grey in the bottom left, then green and brown in the same position in the other one. They were soft in color, not blazing, like some people described his striking blue, but just like soft earth or drifting air—where the hell was all of this coming from? The part of him that wasn't captivated by those strange eyes noticed randomly that she had double-lobe piercings in one ear and a cartilage piercing on her left, a green ring with a green ball of some sort…

Her eyes lowered and she cleared her throat, uncomfortable. "Thank you, sir, but I think you might want to change your skin back now…"

It took a moment for the words to sink in—her voice was deep and calming, like heated silk and warm water. What she said hit him like a freight train, and he raised his arms, looking down at his hands in astonishment. He hadn't even felt the change, he'd been so wrapped up in her appearance. He concentrated on being human again before he realized that she wasn't screaming, wasn't panicking, wasn't running away. Instead, she'd calmly told him to change his skin back. Who was she—what was she?

"Thanks… who are you?"

"You mean what?" She grinned, but he had the strange thought-as every single one of them seemed to be lately-that the words saddened her.

"Are you a mind-reader or something?" he asked gruffly, trying to hide his suddenly unsteady voice, body, everything.

"Not with you, Malachai. You should know that nobody can read you. I'm Elektra, though, to answer your question. Al… Elektra Paeus." _She's lying_, he thought, but brushed the thought aside. Why would she lie about her name?

"And to your own?" His head tilted to the side, studying her closely. Those eyes looked down for the briefest moment and he knew he saw sadness in them. For some reason it tugged an echoing one in him, but he couldn't remember where from. _She doesn't know_, his mother's voice whispered in his head, and he knew it to be true. "Where are you from, then, let's start with that?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I should be saying anything like that to someone I really don't know. So thank you, Malachai—"

"Ambrosius," he said automatically, hating his form, even the name of it.

She lifted an eyebrow but gave in and just nodded. "Fine, thank you, _Ambrosius_, but I should be going, before any more things that go bump in the night decide to make me a late night snack." She hurriedly grabbed her coat and ran for the other side of the alley, practically becoming a blur in her effort to escape.

_You always did know how to make an impression, _his mother's voice said, and he actually found himself laughing. He'd always known how to chase after the ladies, too, and this case was no different. _ You can run, Elektra, but you can't hide. There's something about you that I know is important, I just don't know what yet. You'll tell me, though, soon enough…_


	2. Chapter 2: Long Past Time

﻿**Chapter Two: Long Past Time  
**

It always amazed Alectra how humanity, even after 11,000 years, never changed. Sure, the people themselves died and civilizations vanished in the blink of an eye, but at the core... After all this time, so few people stopped to help someone, to give someone spare change, to ask someone how they were. How many people had passed her by all those years ago, seeing a skinny child and not caring? How many nights had she spent cold and hungry because no one had wanted to take her in, with her eyes the way they were? How many times had she made a friend, only to have them turn away when they saw her do strange things or worse, when they died in the end?

The last one had made her wary of people. The first few hundred years she had persisted on thinking she was human, as if by believing it hard enough, it would be true. It wasn't. When the last of her former friends had died or cursed her for her longevity, she had abandoned the cities and villages she had lived in. She had searched for caves, made herself a home in the trees, even. This was how she'd met the were-hunters. Thankfully she had met the Arcadians first, because with their human hearts they had taken her in and taught her how to use some of her powers. Some had not liked it—in fact, the alpha had hated her with a passion, the old woman had been crotchety and mistrustful, always making it her personal business to say little mean things, mistruths in her ear, to trip her, to rake her with her claws and play it like an accident.

The rest of the pack had welcomed her with wide arms, even the meaner ones, though they had thought first and foremost that she would be good protection against the Katagaria. Her 'family,' the Pardosera had been a wonderful group of Panthers. Even in human form they had loved to play and laugh, showing her how to teleport, time-walk, so many things with her 'magic,' as she had come to see it. They had loved her with an abandon that still made her smile in remembering. Goddess, she had been so devastated when they had died. She had come back from the village, gathering food-in the 'borrowing' sense the children had taught her one mischievous afternoon- when she had smelled fire. Dropping the meats and fruits from her basket, she had ran with all her speed, forgetting her ability to travel space in the blink of an eye, and come to the ridge that overlooked her small valley. The tree houses were burned, bodies of humans and the black cats everywhere. Shouting, she had reached with her magic and felt an Arcadian presence still alive, and instantly she was by the side of her tiny sister, barely 7 in their years. The little girl had been lying in a growing pool of blood, tears leaking out of her eyes even though she didn't have the strength anymore to really cry. Alectra had knelt by the small body and tried to heal her, but it was too late. "Agape, Alemou," she had choked. _I love you,_ the girl had whispered, and used a pet term for her name. The breath had shuddered out of her body and stopped.

Alectra had felt that silence in her own heart, felt a cold creeping to solidify over her mind. She didn't remember what had happened after that, but she must have followed the human scent back to the village of the hunters. When she had 'woken' from the thrall, she was standing in a destroyed village, not a single human in sight, the animals all gone, every single hut or building or place of worship destroyed.

After that, she had traveled the world. Even the were-hunters she had met had died of old age, their 1,000 years of life no match for her endless existence. Her mother had been right to name her Alectra Melanthria. _Unceasing Black-Flower_. Maia could never have guessed how long her beloved child would have to live, but she had known that Alectra would live a long life, courtesy of the midwife who had proclaimed that her child would live as long as the gods! The Black-Flower had been a hope that the Goddess Apollymi, the Atlantian Goddess Destruction who was said to have a garden of black roses that only grew for her, would watch over her, keep her from harm. Alectra still didn't know if the goddess looked on, or if she had laughed and turned away. After 11,00 years, she had only known death and sorrow.

This was why she loved people like Katra and a little demon girl, Simi, so much. Those two had never died. The demon was thousands of years old and still practically a toddler. It was wonderful! And Katra had been one of her few friends that she trusted completely, with her secrets, her life, _everything_. She had been so surprised when Kat had said that she was getting married! Instantly Alectra had been at her side, questions springing off her tongue. Sin- Kat's husband's name was actually _Sin_, and boy-oh-boy did he have the face for it! – had been shocked for some reason. Surely an abnormal person was no surprise for a god who was marrying a… well, Kat wasn't really a demigoddess, but she wasn't actually a god, either. More like a child of Artemis and Acheron, the last Atlantian God on earth, who supposedly was the leader of the Dark-Hunters. Alectra still had yet to meet these legendary beings who kept the Daimons from destroying all of humankind.

A sound tore her from her reverie and Alectra realized she had been in la-la land for quite some time. She chuckled, thinking it had been a long time since she had drifted off like that! The sound came again, and she looked around, searching with eyes and mind for the source of the noise. It wasn't a physical noise, she recognized that now. It was something scraping against the barriers she had put around her house. Pushing away from her desk, where she had been trying to find the best way to help an emotionally damaged thirteen-year-old, she walked silently towards the direction the noise was coming from. She knew the shield was strong, it had even kept Katra out several times, much to the woman's fury and Alectra's amusement.

Hiding herself from sight, she walked into the living room and looked out the front door. Why would anyone be attempting to break into the _front_ door? Why not the back? She supposed it must be that she'd watched too many bad movies, where the bad guys always went for subtlety. One look at who it was showed her why there was no need for the rear entrance; hidden from human view, eyes like oil over obsidian, skin red as blood and half hidden in the night by the tribal tattoo-ish things, was the Malachai, Ambrosius. A tremor of anxiety went through her at the thought of anyone as powerful as him coming after her, but then the calming realization that she was more powerful than him settled into her brain, and she looked at the man—thing, again. His brows were drawn down and he kept shoving his hand against the lock, as if that would just blast the shield spell away and he would be able to walk on in. _Keep trying, boy-o. It ain't happening tonight_, she grinned evilly. With a lift of her hand, she dropped the shield and let him come bursting through the glass door, even as she muffled the sound so her neighbors wouldn't wake up and hear it. Not even a few seconds after he entered he looked around warily and fixed his eyes on where she _shouldn't _be. Dropping the sight-shield, since it obviously wasn't working, she grinned at him and arched a brow.

"Don't you know it's polite to knock?" she taunted.

Ambrosius scowled at her. "I think that's irrelevant when you seem prepared for someone to not knock." He had a point there, if she really thought about it. He seemed to see her concede this point and took a step towards her. Automatic reaction kicked in and she raised a hand, sending him flying against the wall. She dropped her hand instantly and made a 'damn, that wasn't supposed to happen' face. The Malachai growled and pushed away from the wall, looking supremely pissed. "Now listen, woman, I don't appreciate that when I honestly didn't come here for a fight."

"Okay. It was an accident." Alectra's cheeks pinked and it made him pause, as if that would've been the _last_ thing to come to mind after being crashed against a wall. His brows drew even closer together, but his eyes opened a little, letting her know it wasn't necessarily anger that was his emotion. Then again, she could feel his confusion, and it made her wonder how long he had kept himself apart from everyone else, that he would not know a basic kindness like an apology.

"Why aren't you attacking?"

"Because you're not." The answer didn't seem to ease his wariness.

"That's not the way it works, though." He seemed deeply troubled by the fact that she wasn't clawing at him.

"Why not? It's not like I enjoy hurting people. It was an accident, and I'm sorry. You startled me, stepping forward after trying to break in like that."

Ambrosius looked at her closer, trying to figure out what game she was playing. Her face was honest, and if it weren't for the fact that he couldn't get into her head-a disturbing fact, truth be told-he would already have picked at her thoughts until he'd found the hidden threat. But she just stood there, hands up and away from her sides, presenting a wide target, face completely honest, as if she believed what she said. And she had apologized. Why? None of this made sense.

"You let me in, didn't you?" The realization chafed at his pride and made him look around, searching for a trap.

"Yes. It seemed better than having that scratching sound ringing in my head for hours. If a goddess, or whatever she is," he thought he heard her mumble, "can't get in, why would you?" He looked pointedly down at himself, holding up red and black hands. "Oh, well, that doesn't seem to helpful in this case, does it?" She smiled, and he didn't know what the hell was going on anymore.

Throwing his hands up, he turned in a circle before stepping towards her, slowly this time. His eyes were narrowed as he tried to find a way past the blank void that was her mind, trying to see what was underneath. There had to be something there that showed her true plans. "Why are you playing nice?"

She looked shocked and offended by that question, another thing that baffled him. Who the hell was this chick? "I'm not 'playing' at anything. Just because I'm not blowing you up from the inside out-a truly gross image, but a possible one, if you don't knock it off- doesn't mean that I'm hiding something. Jesus, if Dark-Hunters are anything like you it's a wonder any of them found that damn out clause thingy!" She put her hands on her hips and met him stare for stare. He had to laugh; he was over a foot taller than her, had to be twice her weight, had enough power to give her a damn good run for her money, and she stood there like she was facing a grumpy toddler who wasn't quite bright.

The laugh startled both of them, but the grin stayed on his face. His skin changed from red to the Cajun olive, his eyes from the glittering menace to scorching blue, and for some reason she looked more wary now than before. "Who are you, really?" She arched a brow, as if thinking him not-too-bright all over again. "Yeah, yeah, Elektra. Bullshit. You started saying something else before, so you're lying."

"So you decide to break into my house because you think I lied to you about a _name_?" her voice dripped disbelief and a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"More or less," he shrugged. Wasn't like he'd never been too damn curious before.

"Elektra." One strong brow raised, as if daring him to question it. If there was any button guaranteed to get him to do stupid things, it was challenging him to something.

A mocking grin slid across his features and he stepped even closer to her, pressing his body against hers, alert in the case that she actually did try to attack him. She didn't, instead shrinking back until she hit the wall. Her eyes narrowed, warning, but he just leaned down so that his head was right above hers and she had to crane her neck against the wall to keep her eyes locked with his. "Really? So if asked someone close to you what your name was, they'd say Elektra? What about Nike, goddess of history? Would she say that?"

Wariness was replaced with surprise and what almost looked like childish excitement. "You know Nike?"

It was his turn to arch a brow at her. "What are you, two?"

The woman frowned at him. "No, of course not. But it's not exactly every day you meet someone who knows a Greek goddess!" She did something, almost like something a contortionist would do, only it was graceful and fluid, and she was out from under his arm and pacing. "What's she like?"

He rested his shoulder against the wall and watched her, curiosity flaring. Who was this woman? She was defiant one moment, excited the next, calm three seconds before both! Who was she, or better yet, the question she'd said just a few nights ago lingered in his mind. _What was she?_

﻿"I wouldn't know," he answered grudgingly. "The only goddess I've had the unfortunate opportunity to meet is Artemis." He watched as shock came across her face and she stepped towards him now. With a lift of her hand his arm rose of its own accord to her waiting grasp, ad she looked up and down, first one forearm and bicep, then the next. "If you're looking for the mark, look up." His bitter tone obviously caught her attention and that small head snapped up, those beautiful eyes searching his face. Her eyes settled on the mark that covered the edge of one side from earlobe to lower jaw. How she had missed it before, with her being shorter than him by far, he'd never understand.

"How..." he looked down at her now and saw regret and sympathy in her gaze. "What happened?"

Her reaction was the last thing he wanted. "I don't want or need your pity. Shit happens, at least to the rest of humanity." He noticed the last words seemed to cut her, even though the others didn't. He wanted to keep himself apart from the side of him that wanted to apologize and say what had happened that night. It was a quick inner battle lost before it had even really begun. His mother hadn't raised a cruel person, and she would be ashamed if she had heard him speak to someone so. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. If it's all the same, I'd like to leave what happened in the past."

Alectra's eyes opened wide at his words; she was obviously floored by the fact that someone as volatile as he could possibly say sorry. But then again, it wasn't like he'd given her much good to judge him by, had he? His thoughts were interrupted by her soft words. "I don't think you can. I think you won't let it settle because you blame yourself. Why? What went on? You know, I'm a counselor, I could help you, if you let me. I'd like to help you, Ambrosius." Her voice was soft, her green-brown-grey eyes eloquent with the same caring his mother had always seemed to be filled with, and he felt something break.

The iron wall he'd built out of necessity chipped in places, leaving of unsteady. "What do you know about Dark-Hunters?"

She sucked on her lower lip, thinking. "Acheron is the leader, Artemis changes them after they die, they're created when with their last breath their souls cry out so much that it reaches Olympus. They get their souls back if they find the one person that won't betray them." She looked up into his deep blue gaze, her own troubled. "What could hurt a Malachai to the point of becoming a Dark-Hunter? You have so much power-"

"Have, present tense. I didn't become one, or didn't turn into one, until after I died. When I woke up, all of these powers had been unlocked. Short ends of both stick," he said sarcastically, and her tiny fingers brushed against the bow and arrow mark.

"I'm so sorry, really. What happened, the night you died?"

Ambrosius didn't want to answer this either. It was too close, too painful. The look must've shown, because a small smile graced her lips. "You know, even after all of the years that I've been around, I know that it still helps me to talk about things that hurt, no matter how big or little."

Disbelief colored his features again. "And what could hurt you, with all of your powers?" he turned her own thoughts against her.

"Lots of things. When I was little, the fact that I knew that I would never get to see my father. When my mother died... that pain never eases, but I remember how she made me promise to live my life, to never quit, and that pain becomes easier to live with. When I realized that I wasn't aging, when everyone I had ever known died, I cried. So yes, there are many things that can hurt me, even after 10,000 years." She smiled sadly at him and reached up to rub his arm comfortingly. "Come talk, Ambrosius. It's easier than you think."

Dumbfounded, completely amazed by an amount of pain he didn't think he could imagine, he followed silently to a small, but homely kitchen, where herbs hung upside down and the comforting smell of rosemary filled the air. He watched as she took out mugs that were instantly filled with steaming hot cocoa.

"How old are you?" he asked softly, looking down at her fragile frame and wondering how such narrow, delicate shoulders could carry a burden like that.

"11,542 years old, give or take a couple years, because the calendar wasn't exactly the same."

Something nibbled at the back of his mind as he sipped the cocoa. "You know, that would make you just younger than Acheron. Where were you born?"

"Atlantis, although after my grandfather threw my mother and I out, my mother took us to Greece."

It was far too close to be a coincidence, and he said so. "Well, he's never come to see me, and I think I'd remember if I'd stumbled across an Atlantian god, the harbinger of doom and destruction, a god-killer and not to mention a person with powers stronger than mine."

Something in her tone made him lean in and study her face. "Your powers bother you, huh?" he asked bluntly.

A far off, sad look came into her eyes, and not for the first time he wished he could read her mind. "Not many people wanted to take in a skinny little nobody with eyes like mine and a strange feeling of unholy power. It's funny, though, because that's how I met the Arcadians.

"How old were you?" Dread filled him, though for the life of him he couldn't explain why something that had already come to pass would worry him.

"17. It mother died a long a horrible death of disease while I never even got a fever. After that, no one would take me in; Atlantis was destroyed, my only other relatives with it, and no one wanted to shelter a demon, as the high priest told everyone I was." She grinned evilly. "Although, come to think of it, I probably could grow horns and a tail, if I tried." She laughed, and he had to shake his head at her off-beat humor that wasn't quite civilized.

"You spent too much time with those wolves, woman."

Her grin turned wicked. "Oh, no, they weren't wolves, at least not in the beginning. No, these were Panthers, and ones with the most uncanny knowledge of how to get someone's goat-literally and figuratively- I've ever met."

"So let me get this straight: you were born in Atlantis, survived the death of your mother, continued to despite the fact that you had to fend for yourself at such a young age and lived with Panthers, who kill their own family, let alone outsiders?" She nodded. "Jesus."

The tiny woman laughed. "Actually, long before Jesus."

He shook his head. "And I thought I had it bad."

Her head cocked to the side. "What happened, Ambrosius? I saw the way your face changed when I talked about my mother. Is that what happened? Did she die?"

He looked at her intently, a last struggle to see a hidden agenda, but it wasn't even half-hearted. After her story, he was surprised as hell she was even sane. "It's Nick. If you're going to try to 'shrink' me, it's Nick Gautier."

"Alectra Melanthri Paeus." She goofily put her hand out and he laughed, wondering at how at a somber moment like this she still acted as if things were just peachy.

"Okay, Ahhhhhhhlectra," he joked, "my mother and I were the only things we had as well. She was a dancer when she met my father, and he was this felon that couldn't keep out of jail, so it was just us." He paused, as if not knowing what to tell next.

"You know," she said softly, sitting across from him at the little breakfast nook, "I've noticed that life is almost never linear. It moves in kind of a snake line, but if you tell it as it was, I think I'll figure it out eventually." A slight smile tilted lovingly curved lips up.

Nick felt himself wanting to smile as well, an odd feeling after years of being sour. "I had this friend, Acheron, leader of the Dark-Hunters. I thought he would go to the wall for me, and I know I would have for him. He was like a really, really, really older brother or something. Well, one night I meet this girl, and she's beautiful, sort of. Small, about your size, with long black hair and dark make up and totally gothed out. She was interested in... well, I think you know what. So later I find out that she was Acheron's demonic daughter. I was horrified. I'd slept with my best friend's daughter. It was just..." he paused, as if he wasn't exactly sure what to say. "Horrible. I felt like shit. I tried to apologize." Now he sneered. "The bastard threw me through a wall and told me I should kill myself before he did." Bitterness twisted his mouth into a harsh line. "I didn't know, but he didn't care. We both knew that if he'd told me about her then I never would've touched her." He raked his hands through his hair and as she watched the familiar sorrow and helpless anger came into his blue gaze. "I got home to the house I'd bought for my mother and I felt that something was wrong, but I couldn't explain it. When I got to her... she was already dead. I couldn't do anything. So I called down Artemis and demanded that she turn me into a Dark-Hunter and allow me to have my revenge. As it turns out, it doesn't quite work that way. It seems you have to be dead for all of that to happen." A feeling of horror came over her and she shook her head, eyes wide at what she knew was to come. "So I shot myself, right in he head. Still didn't get the revenge, or even real powers. Lucky for me I have my own inner demon, cause otherwise I'd be screwed." Nick looked up, searching her eyes for any telltale sign of repulsion or anger. When he found none, he sighed. "You want to know what the worst part is?"

Alectra watched him pit his hands behind his head and shut his eyes tiredly. "What?" she asked gently. She wanted to hold him and comfort him somehow, but knew that any gesture would be treated with cynicism and scorn.

"He could've brought her back. The night she died, he went and saved a baby girl and brought back her parents from the dead. I don't mind that at all, because the man he resurrected saved my life a long time ago. But the fact that he did that for them and refused to do that for her, who treated him like a second son... I hate him for that. He could have saved her-hell, he probably still could- but he chose not to."

Alectra bit her lip, wondering what to say or do that wouldn't alienate herself from him, yet at the same time knowing that some truths had to be said. "Ambrosius-"

"Nick. If I've told you this much, I stupidly trust you with more than my name, so use it."

While his gruff tone would've chafed anyone else's feelings, Alectra knew from intuition that it was a cover for the emotions that were too close to the surface for his liking, and he wanted to get that control back, even of it was just by choosing which name to go by.

"Nick, over all of the years that I've struggled with my gifts, there are some things I've learned that cannot be changed, and others that can be bent to an extreme. When I learned I could go back in time, I tried to go back and meet my father. You want to know bow that ended?"

Nick looked over and searched her face carefully. "How?"

"I ended up meeting my grandfather instead. I kept trying, and finally I was pulled aside by this woman who was not particularly nice. She was obviously gifted, because she knew what I'd been trying to do. She told me to leave the man I sought alone, because fate had not deemed for me to see him yet. If I persisted on trying to locate him, the people I called family-the Panthers, at that point in time-would all die." It was her turn to smile bitterly. "Turns out that the Fate bitches decided to anyway." Her deep forest gaze traveled back to his and locked powerfully. "Sometimes things happen that we can't change back, period." She leaned over the table and the same helpless rage and grief filled her eyes. "I tried to bring my little sister back. I tried to heal her. I tried so damned hard because even though she should have meant nothing to me, she loved me for who I was and I loved her. But sometimes no matter how hard you try, it just doesn't work out." She wiped the tears from he edges if her eyes where they threatened to spill and leaned back. "From what you've told me about this Acheron, it sounds a lot like he would have tried the same damn thing. But my sister believed in moving on. What about your mother? Was she religious?"

"Yeah," he said hoarsely. His mind was wondering what it would've been like, always watching people around you die like she had. What she must have been through, alone after all this time. Was this anything like Ash had gone through?

"What would she have said if Ash had brought her back to life?" His eyes froze on hers as realization trickled in. "I'm right, aren't I? She would've said something like life moves on, or whatever people who actually can die say."

Nick stood up abruptly, pacing the small confines of the kitchen. What would his mom have said? 'Cher, you already know the answer to that. You always did.' With a soft groan he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and shook his head. No, she'd loved life too much-but she'd believed that everything had a purpose. Damn that stupid saying.

He was so caught up in these thoughts he jumped when a small hand rested on his elbow. "I'm sorry, Nick, but I think we both know the answer to this. You have to let it go."

"Let it go? How could I forget it?" his voice raised desperately as he fought to keep the anger close, protecting him from the tidal wave of emotion that was threatening to drown him.

"You don't. But being angry over her death isn't what she would've wanted for you. She would have wanted you to live, Nick. If not for yourself, then for her." Alectra spoke softly and surely, and the wall broke. The pain he'd kept at bay for over a year crashed through him and he dropped like a stone. His knees hit the floor and a sound like a wounded animal echoed in the room. From some hidden corner of his mind, he realized it was him making that sound, but he was too broken to care. From that same distance he felt arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly close.

Tears-hers, his- fell to the floor as the grief raged through him at last.


	3. Chapter 3: Breakfast

**Chapter Three: Breakfast**

Nick woke to the smells of coffee and something delicious, though he couldn't identify what. Sitting up, he noticed his surroundings for the first time, but didn't recognize them. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was breaking down like a little girl and crying. No, not crying. Weeping. God, if anybody he knew found out about this... then again, most of them thought he was dead, so what did it matter? Why should he give a flying fuck what they would think? Bastards hadn't even had a memorial for him. Putzes. Or maybe it was putzi, he thought randomly.

The thought was interrupted by a ruffled-looking Alectra, long hair curling at the edges and wavy around her face, sexy, but not purposely so. She flipped it back so it was out of her eyes as she peeked around the edge of the door. "Oh good, you're awake! Perfect timing!" She smiled from ear to ear.

"Are you always this damn chipper in the morning?" he grumbled.

"Are you always this damn grumpy?" she asked lightly, still smiling. She looked like a frigging ray of sunshine, and it wasn't even... what time was it, anyway? He looked around and noticed an alarm clock. Jesus H. Christ on a crutch, it was only 9. Didn't she ever sleep?

Obviously she found his plight funny, as the monster-in-humanish-disguise laughed at his morning misery. "Go away woman!" he muttered, throwing himself back down on the comfy bed and dragging a pillow over his face.

That was, until he found himself upside down and hanging in midair, his eyes level with hers. "You mean to tell me that I went through the labor of making a decent breakfast and fresh coffee to have a demon tell me go away in my own house?" she said silkily. That was the first sign that had warning bells in his head. No woman sounded like that and wasn't out for blood.

"Uh..."

"Or that I let you live after following me and attempting to attack me in my own house?"

"About that..."

"Or that I let you sleep in my bed while I took the couch _in my own house_, _after_ I put you to sleep because you were making yourself sick with pent up emotions?"

Nick had the grace to look sheepish as he looked at her. "Yes ma'am."

Suddenly her face brightened and he dropped with a loud thud to the floor. Removing his arm from over his eyes so he could see and trying to get the breath back in him, he met a pair of delighted eyes. "I haven't been able to get that face from anyone in years!" she said cheerfully, and waved her hand. Air filled his lungs in a rush and he found himself upright again, standing in his jeans and towering over her by a foot. "Breakfast is ready, as I told you before I played that cruel joke on you. It's breakfast burritos, something I discovered not too long ago. I wasn't sure if you like bacon or sausage or peppers or onions in yours, so all of those ingredients are out on the counter. Help yourself. No beer for breakfast, so you'll have to make do with either milk or juice. There's orange and white-grape-raspberry." He winced.

"White grape raspberry?" his tone must have conveyed some level of his disturbed feeling, because she nodded emphatically.

"It's addictive! Like strawberry lemonade, only more sugar."

There was truly something wrong with this creature as she literally bounced and skipped to the kitchen ahead if him.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you always this... happy..." he shuddered, "in the morning?"

She poured a glass of the red liquid for herself and nodded. "It's the only way to get through the day after 11,000 years. If I wasn't I'd likely be trying to find a way to kill myself each morning." Although the words were serious, her tone was light and she was still smiling.

"So let me get this straight," he said, grabbing a tortilla from the griddle skillfully and throwing everything into it until he couldn't pack in any more. "You've really-"

"How are you going to eat that?" she wondered out loud, and he looked down at it, trying to figure out what was wrong with it.

"What?"

"It's huge! Your mouth may be big, but not THAT big! No one can eat that!"

"Oh babe, you haven't seen nothin yet. You should see my bud Kyrian. He's a dump truck. Or Talon. They eat the most junk food I've ever seen. And then there's Psycho Ass, who's-"

"Psycho... Ass?" she asked slowly, as if trying to figure out why the hell anyone would have that name.

"Trust me, he more than deserves the name," Nick explained, grinning. The sight made her pause, then resume her perpetual motion. Physics had nothin on this woman.

"Tell me about them," she said as she daintily ate the edge of her burrito, never making a mess.

Nick thought about it for a moment. "Kyrian was the first Dark-Hunter I met. He saved me when I was a teen from getting the shit kicked out of me. He-"

"Why would someone want to kick the shit out of you?" her head was cocked to the side, as if she couldn't reason this out.

"I was in a gang back then. My dad was constantly in and out of jail, so it was just my mom and me." It amazed him how much easier it was to speak of his mother now, and he knew it wast because of time and distance... and probably the woman in front of him. The tiny lady had real power like that, making it all seem okay now. "I got into this stupid gang, thinking I could help bring some money to the table, but I started thinking of what it would do to her if she found out." He paused, a distant look crossing his face as he thought about it. "She would've been devastated. Thought it was her fault or something like that." Nick smiled and shook his head. "She was always protecting people, taking them under her wing, so if her own son was a thief and a mugger, she would've felt like she'd failed me. Anyway," he said, realizing he was rambling, "I wanted out, but they thought differently." His grin spread over his face as he rubbed the ribs on his right side, remembering the broken and bruised ones he'd gotten that night. "They beat the snot outta me, but before they can finish the job this huge biker squeals in, intimidates the hell outta them, and they take off running!"

Alectra laughed at the look of glee on his face. He looked like a little boy at that moment, so different from the bitter man he'd been just last night.

"He takes off the helmet, picks me up by the scruff of my neck like I was some kind of puppy, and sets me on my feet. Kyrian's about six-five, but he's all muscle, so being the goober I was, my first thought was, 'it's the Hulk, only without the green.'" Nick smacked his forehead in shame and shook his head. "It's horrifying now, but it seemed right back then." He grinned at her.

She smiled back, enjoying the fun of just talking with him. It'd been so long since she'd done even this much with anyone, and the feeling of not being alone was amazing. They spent the whole afternoon talking from one subject to the next, and neither got bored or felt pressed to do something else. It was three before they knew it, and Nick jumped up as the clock rang.

"Oh, shit. I'm _so _gonna be late. Wait, maybe I can just do the zap thing." He looked at her and a slow grin came across his features. "Can you teleport?"

The question caught her off guard. "Yes... Why?"

"Good. Then you can meet Acheron and I can _not_ meet a pissed off Atlantian god."

Alectra shook her head. "Wait a moment, I'm confused. Why?"

Nick looked irked for a moment. "I'm... taking lessons," the words seemed to rub his pride raw, "...from him. He's apparently the only person on the face of the frigging planet who knows how to control powers like mine, so he's been appointed my lord and master. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost all sense of time, and my ass is now late for today's Beat-the-Shit-Out-of-Nick session." Alectra blinked at him. "Can I bum a ride?" He gave his best little kid innocent smile.

"Sure..." she gave him a not-sure-but-game smile. "Where is it?"

"How do you like moving islands that no one else can find?"

* * *

_**A/N**_**: **_Hello, it's me again! Well...??? How is it? Is Nick's character right for his persona? I'm never really sure with that boy. Lol, I read over the first chapter and went, "Jesus, that's rough," but I tried to stick to how his type of person would think in the book. :P So it turned out as a really not politically correct chapter. Yay! Review and respond, even if it's just a smart remark! _

**Much love! **_~Kasha_


	4. Chapter 4: Beach Mishaps

**Chapter Four: Beach Mishaps**

Two figures exploded onto a sandy beach, teetering for balance before righting themselves. Alectra turned to Nick with a grin and put her hands on her hips. "Ha. Told you so." The taller one looked half-grateful, half-aggravated.

"Yeah, you did. You were right. Chics can aim just as good as guys." He looked like those words were scraping his throat like nails as they emerged.

"Nick, who the hell is this-"

"Savitar, meet Alectra," he said quickly to cut the man off.

Savitar looked from Nick to Alectra and back again furiously. "Nicky, you know better than to bring someone here!" In a dismissive gesture, he waved his hand at the woman, intending to send her back to wherever she was from. Alectra shattered the magic with a wave of her own hand and glared at him.

"Excuse me?" she said, her own tone beginning to smolder. "I brought him here, you pompous-"

Nick whistled sharply. "Alectra, meet Savitar, god-killer, surfer dude and man older than...well, everything. Sav, this is Alectra Melan... I give up. Alectra, 11,000 year old... humanish person."

Savitar looked at her with new interest. "How old?"

"Just younger than Ash." Nick gave the man a 'leave her alone' look.

Sav grinned--right before he lashed out with his powers. Alectra blocked just before it would've hit her and braced herself for an oncoming attack. The giant man struck again, harder now, and she deflected the blow again. His enormous height towered over her as he pursued her across the beach. She never took the offensive, but neither did she let him have the upper hand.

Savitar had a look of supreme anger as he let out a roar that surprised her. A bolt shot from his hand and she brought both of hers up. A terrible explosion rocked the area, a white light blinding everyone as they were knocked off their feet and sent flying backwards.

The first sound to be heard was laughter. Savitar rolled his eyes towards the dune behind a semi-conscious Alectra and curled his lip. "Go 'way, Sushi."

"Is that any way to speak to an old friend?" said the Asian man in accented English.

"Takeshi, don't egg him on. He already got beaten by a girl a fraction of his age, don't-"

"She didn't win," he sulked.

"She certainly did not lose, though. Which, considering her stature," he looked up and down Alectra's lack of height and weight, "is astonishing. Who are you?"

"Alectra Melanthria Paeus," she said softly, wary of another newcomer. "I just came to help Nick get here." She glanced at Savitar as she rose slowly, as if not wanting to trigger another attack with a sudden move. "I didn't mean to intrude. I'll just go and-"

She was cut off by a blur of dark color streaking towards her. Instinctively she sheltered herself, and another boom knocked everyone but her down.

Shaking his head to clear it, Takeshi stood and bowed respectfully to her. "Very few people are able to do that. You are strong for your age."

Alectra glared. "I'm older than I look, Mr. Takeshi."

Savitar and Takeshi exchanged looks as the blond man stood. "Who are you, Alectra?" Savitar said at last.

"Alectra-"

"No, as in who are your parents. You're not human, obviously, yet you're not a goddess."

Alectra backed away slowly, not liking the way they attacked, yet now were so curious to know her.

"Leave her alone," Nick said, coming to stand in between them as he finally got to his feet. "What's the matter with you two? You didn't even treat Artemis like this the one time she showed her face here. And where the fuck is Acheron?" he growled.

"Here," said a voice from behind them all. Where Takeshi had once sat, a tall man now stood, goth outfit complete with black hair with red streaks in it. "If you're done attacking her, I'd like to get started."

"But she's more interesting then little Nicky," Savitar fake whined, laughing at the glare Nick sent his way.

"I have to admit, I do agree." The little man smiled innocently.

Nick threw his hands into the air. "Ash, since you haven't attacked her yet, I assume you have brains you're using and waiting to know who this is. This is Alectra Melanthria-"

"Please stop," she asked quietly, putting a hand on his arm. "It's obvious I'm not supposed to be here, so I'll just go." She looked around nervously, as if waiting for someone to pounce on her, then nodded in Ash's direction. "Nice to meet you, Acheron Parthenopaeus."

Nick made a connection just as she vanished from behind him. "Parthenopaeus. Paeus. The ages. Shit! I'm an idiot!" He looked at Ash, who had no idea what was going on, for once. "Ash, when did you die?"

"Why?" he hesitated.

"Because she's 16 years younger than you. Does that strike anyone else as odd?" Takeshi and Savitar looked at Ash speculatively.

"And Stryker and some other Daimons aren't far away-" Savitar pointed up, where the sun glared brilliantly. There went the Daimon theory.

"Acheron, I moved to attack her and she cocooned herself so tightly I couldn't reach her. She had enough power to stop a god-bolt from Savitar. I barely have the power needed to do so," Takeshi said slowly, as if mulling over all the possibilities.

"What are you saying?" Ash growled. Apparently his temper was on a very short leash today. Takeshi and Savitar knew that was because memories haunted too close on this subject.

"Ash, is it possible that you two are related?" Nick asked bluntly.

The taller man laughed. "No. There's no way. She would be-"

"Half human," Savitar stated.

Ash shook his head. "It would've been impossible. I couldn't have procreated then. Even if I was able to, any woman caught carrying a child from _me_," he said with a self-degrading sneer, "would've been outcast by Atlantian society and the child aborted. It's not possible."

Takeshi nodded understandingly. "Then what is her future?"

Ash curled his lip at the man, but closed his eyes and searched for her life in the tangle of the world. Souls brushed against his as he came closer and closer, until he found her own strangely, brilliantly lit one. It was different from any he'd seen before. When he reached for it, he faltered, stumbling as he came upon a void. Sweat broke out as he tried again, searching for her past, future, anything. He was met again and again with a terrifying nothing, and when he opened his eyes and looked to Savitar, he knew the man knew.

"Oh gods," he breathed.


	5. Chapter 5: Sisters

_**A/N: ** I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I've been occupied with my other fics and completely forgot to start putting new chapters up for this one! Be patient, I'm really going to kick myself in the butt and get going with this one! Thank you!!! Much love! _~Kasha

* * *

**Chapter Five: Sisters**

Alectra crashed as she landed in her house once more. It had taken more of her power to protect herself than it should have. She laughed, struggling to breathe normally again. 'You're out of shape, old girl,' she thought.

"Alex?" a voice called from the kitchen and she sighed, knowing it was already too late.

Kat walked into the room to find her friend on the floor and paled considerably. "Alex! What happened?" she raced over to gather her tiny friend up into her arms, noticing the pallor, the cold skin and the trembles shaking her small frame.

"Just... out of shape... Kat." Alectra smiled wryly, attempting to put her at ease, but Kat knew better.

"You're full of shit and you know it! What happened?" she set her down carefully on the bed and had tea-just the way Alex liked it-ready with a second's thought. "What happened, Alex?" her voice was worried now, soft and scared, and it crumbled Alectra's stoic-ness.

She began to shake harder, and her insides felt frozen. "I helped a friend get to this... moving island, of sorts, and when we reached there... I don't know. I must have been trespassing, or something, because out of nowhere comes this huge blond god of the surf, and he kept lashing out. I don't even know what the last thing was, he just hurled this... I don't know, a giant white thing, almost like lightning! I barely was able to protect myself from it. And then this Asian man-"

"Whoa! Stop! How did you meet Savitar and Takeshi?" Kat's eyes were confused and wary now.

Alectra shook her head. "I think that was his name. Some sort of god-killer?" She was so tired.

Kat shook her, making her open her eyes. "How did you meet Savitar?"

"Nick."

Shit. Kat wondered how the fuck the world had shrunk so much that someone as sweet as Alex would be attacked out of the blue by Savitar-who scared the shit out of her, for sure- and from the looks of it, Takeshi.

What was going on?

Kat made sure her friend was going to be okay, tucking her under thick blankets and worrying for a good few minutes before her anger bubbled over. She flashed from Alex's room to Savitar's island, where four men were standing. She looked at Savitar and growled. He might be scarier than hell, but he had hurt her friend, a sweet person who had done nothing to deserve it.

"What the fuck is your problem?" she said, moving with large strides toward him.

"Girl, you better watch your tongue. If it weren't for that-" he pointed at her bulging belly, "-you might just be charred meat."

"Enough, Sav." The tired voice caught both of their attentions quickly.

Kat looked back at him and noticed he looked pale, and very worn out. "What's wrong?" she walked over to him and took his hand, already doing a systems check. Nothing seemed wrong-nothing was broken or out of sorts-but she could still see the pain and stress written across his features. "Daddy, what's wrong?"

Ash looked down and felt like he had all those years ago. How was he supposed to tell his daughter that he had been a slave, a whore?

"How do you feel about having a sister?" Takeshi said with a smile.

Kat's face lit up. "You mean Tory's pregnant? That's wonderful!"

Ash looked pained now. "No, Kat. Tory isn't pregnant."

Now confusion marred her features. "Then who-"

"Your dear friend Alectra," Takeshi said pleasantly.

Kat looked shocked at first. "I don't... but she's... I don't understand. Mother would have... would have destroyed her," she pushed out.

Ash closed his eyes. "Your mother was too busy trying to bring me to life to save the earth from your grandmother to notice her being born."

Kat's mouth formed an O, but clarity was hard in coming. "But how did she survive."

"Same as any of us have. We get by."

Kat turned to Nick, whose jaw was clenched. "And how do you know this?"

"Because she told me."

Kat's brows raised. "Why would she tell you?" Suspicion laced heavily with sarcasm filled her tone.

Nick closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Because she helped me out when I needed it, and afterwards we talked," he said gruffly. "Happy now?"

Kat thought about this for a long few moments, than nodded. It fit her character.

"How old is she really? A few thousand years?"

Acheron shook his head. "Nearly as old as I am."

Now Kat looked startled. "But she's told me she has no family, and didn't know any other hoodoo-voodoo creature/person until she met the Panthers. How did she not destroy cities with the kind of power she must have?"

They shook their heads. "We don't know."

"Okay... wait, is that why she's so drained right now?" Memory sparked in her brain, and she whirled back to Savitar. "And why the fuck did you attack her?"

Acheron stepped forward and pulled her back, knowing Sav's tolerance of people was nearly done for the day. "Kat, she found the island on her own. That means that she could get past the shield protecting this place. She was strong enough to stop a god-bolt from Savitar and a full bodily attack. Neither-" he said with a disapproving look to both men, "-of which I believe were called for, but understandable. Right now, she's probably a little drained." At her eyebrow raising, he nodded. "Okay, nearly tapped out. She'll be fine in a couple of days if nothing happens."

Kat took a deep breath, calming down. "When are you going to talk to her?"

Now his face closed down. "Daddy, you have to! She's been completely alone for how long?"

"You forget who you talk to, kid," Sav said wryly.

"But she didn't have you to teach her how to handle her powers. She's watched everyone die, never knowing why she hasn't as well."

Acheron waved his hand wearily, turning Kat around. "I will talk to her. But not now."

Kat walked forward and wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, Daddy."

Savitar waved his arm at Nick, sending him home before he raised an eyebrow at Takeshi. The man took the hint and dissolved, just before Sav himself vanished, leaving them alone.

"I love you too, Kat."

She sniffed and hugged him closer once more before backing up. "I need to go take care of her. She's sick right now."

Ash nodded. "Make sure to mind the baby as well. Her powers are unstable right now, so take cautions."

With a nod and a smile, Kat was gone, leaving Ash alone with his thoughts.

Another daughter... with his kind of powers...

He knew what it was like to be alone, to not know his place in the world and watch everyone die. He understood. But he had known what he was, had talked with his mother and Saitar, and later Takeshi.

With a sigh, he sank down and rubbed his tired eyes. Tory would, no doubt, be ecstatic.

Artemis, on the other hand... Artemis could never know.


End file.
